Finding Comfort : Aftermath
by Morfiwen
Summary: After the end of Arda. Maglor seeks his friend, Fara.


The souls of men are judged, and let free. 

Maglor, who heard of the whispers in the wind, followed his heart. He traveled the forests where ents and entwives walked together astride and asked them, climbed mountains of heights that surpassed the clouds, and sailed the shorelines of Aman and beyond. He rode horses, hiked, sailed and swam when by chance his lone ship sank. He was nigh exhausted, which tells on the effort that he demanded of his body for his search. It was then he came across a small settlement, the first of many to come.

The occupants were the reborn Secondborn.

_A curious settlement. _He has never seen any likened to it. There were humans swathed in feathers, leather and multicoloured beads carrying small axe-like implements, humans dressed in what seemed to be painstakingly maintained black coats with stiff white shirts and a rather high hat comparable to Gandalf's if not for the fact that the top is flat. The females shocked him. Some were dressed in familiar long dresses which he is accustomed to, though lavish with bows, ruffles, beads and ridiculously high piled curly hair, some were...indecent. Valar, women were not meant to wear a skirt barely covering their midriff, arms, and legs leaving the skin open to the eyes. He wondered whether there were prostitutes, but they are respectfully regarded by the population, and it almost seems that it is normal wear. The mix of races startled him a bit, though he appreciates the peaceful atmosphere. There were men black as coal with thick lips that split into the broadest of smiles, some were brown like the treebarks of Tirion, there were o many different hues that he cannot help but stare and bless the creations of Ea.

He discovered that elves are stagnant, blondes, browns, blueblack but with very fair skin, while the humans, ah, they would be lovely to be put to art, had he the skill. The music alone is fascinating, but he firmly set his interest aside, seeking for her.

Ever the son of the lords of elves, he took note of the constellations in the sky for trade purposes when he return to the realm of the elves. He pulled the hood of his cloak to cover his features when he rented a room in a rather civilized inn. It was simple and crudely made from somehow consistently square bricks, but there were curious contaptions which made a thick but refreshing drink with a touch of a button, a box which makes food warm as if it was just cooked and various other items at the common room or 'cafe'. He marveled at the advancement of humans. There were laughter and storytelling as he ate his meal, but he kept his distance.

"Newly reborn, are you?" ancient elven eyes met with silver orbs. He nodded briefly to the stranger.

"Speech will return in time once your memories stop churning on overdrive," said a strange man in a garment that covered merely his torso and not his arms, with skin tight leather breeches, and a strange black apparatus was attached to his belt. He did not comprehend the last word, but nodded none the less. Another stout man in embroided finery and a shortsword to his belt approached him.

"I am Arthur, and the mayor of our settlement. There is a boardhouse that we build for newborns like you, until you choose to settle and build your own home. Am I too fast for you?" He shook his head no, and the man smiled, seemingly appeased.

"I.." he struggled with Westron, despite using it to jest with his brothers, "..seek Fara of Gondor." Laughter ensued in the inn. "More specific, man, there are many with similar names. Many maintain a habit of naming their children after ancestors and you might get not the one you seek!"

"She lived alone in an isolated shore, with a dog named Figwit." the Mayor searched his face and leaned towards him in a conspirational whisper.

"Her I know. She was one of the first to be reborn. Along with her family, too. I have always wondered the reason, for she keep to herself and come not much to the market unless to trade her wares. Are you, by chance, privy to the grace given to her?"

He smiled softly and said, "She gave kindness when others do not, for most beloved are those who is of pure heart and goodwill, is it not?"

"True, perhaps," Arthur sighed thoughtfully. "Mine wandering heart dost wonder."

Maglor looked up in enquiry.

"You might want to get used to the variety of English spoken, for even though Eru gifted up with Westron so that we might understand each other, our ages still differ, such as the likes of Danny. Year 2006, says he," the strange man nodded, smiling,"I was born several thousand years before," he thought of the word 'overdrive', wandered of the generations of humans and agreed.

"Come now," says Danny. "Don't be shy, we are all friends here. What's your name?"

Suddenly the all male comraderie was interrupted by a woman coming inside. "Greetings. Have you by chance seen my husband?" Another interesting subject to study. She was swathed in cloth on the top of her head, dressed in loose breeches and long sleeved tunic, he later learned that the correct term is shirt, exposing only her face, her hands from the wrist and her ankles for she was wearing sandals.

"Khadijah, I last saw Amirul trading with the baker," she gave the fair man a sceptical look.

"I looked for him there, too."

"Well," he threw up his hands, "I know not then, ma'am."

"Ah, it's alright. My thanks to all of you," then she was off. A bearded man of Arab descent, his hair covered in a turban and wearing loose white robes sitting near to him looked amused.

He chuckled at his questioning look and told him, "Amirul's trying to do something special for her birthday, but poor man couldn't seem find a moment's peace to actually do it till now. She's quite a woman, became the first Muslim woman in space."

"Space?"

"The stars," he laughed at his shocked look. "You must be from the middle ages. Mankind has stepped on the Moon when I was still around."

His mind reeled.

"You are Eldar, are you? The first elf I've seen since my soul was freed."

"The first elf we have ever seen," a red haired man with a bushy beard of many braids took a closer look at him. Maglor began to withdraw inside and the tension showed.

"Honestly, leave him be," snorted a tiny brown female, dressed in a long tunic and wearing what was called a sarong under it. She was skinny with a friendly smile on her face as she acknowledged him. The friendliness left her face into stern admonishment towards the said men. "Where are your manners?"

The Mayor stretched on his chair and boisterously said "Not long here, an admirer gained, my, my, isn't he the charmer of hearts, and she not the prettiest of maidens?" goodwill was aplenty in the inn as chuckles spread and the girl blushed.

"Aye, but 'twill be worth me soul to have her to merely look at me," laughed the odd man in the sleeveless small tunic, winking at the girl who narrowed her eyes in clear displeasure.

"A fierce one, she is," chuckled someone in the back with an Indian accent. She snorted, and turned back to Maglor.

"My name is Melati, from the Malay Arpaciago," at his baffled look, she smiled, "well, several milleniums of human history would come easy to you eventually."

"I seek only Fara, my old friend," he repeated his request, deciding to push aside the 101 questions in his mind for later on. Melati smiled enigmatically.

"I know her, for we meet often. Find her as you clearly desire. She lives in the cottage of roses beside the stream. Walk Westwards until you find the stream from which you hike upriver. You'll find it in about an hour or so."

"I thank you," he smiled gratefully, and he politely excused himself.


End file.
